


In Every World

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Asexual Character, Dime the dog, M/M, it's literally an alternate universe-alternate universe story, really out there science theories badly explained
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3939511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kougami falls face-first onto the sidewalk while crossing the street, and that's when he meets someone who's strangely familiar for a stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Every World

**Author's Note:**

> So there's this quote from the Psycho-Pass radio drama that takes place directly after S1 where Kougami says this: “With or without the Sybil System, I have a feeling that we would eventually meet each other somewhere. I must say, we are a good team.” 
> 
> Which got me thinking that, if there were multiple universes, these people would find each other, and there's something sweet about that. So that's what this story is. Could be a parallel universe. I'm not good at that kind of science to be able to explain it clearly. Anyway, it takes place in the future, but in a universe where the Sybil System doesn't exist and where Japan didn't become isolationist after a huge Earth-shattering war (there was no war.) So it's a more optimistic version of the future. 
> 
> Well, long explanation aside, enjoy!

“There's a theory that there are infinite universes that exist, and that we could exist many times over as variations of ourselves in variations of our worlds. This is important to understand.” 

“Why is it important to understand?” 

“Because...I've had these dreams. Vivid dreams. Only I don't think they're dreams. They seem more like faded memories. The thing is, the world I lived in during those dreams is so different to this one. And I didn't actually think they were anything other than my brain being overactive while sleeping, until I met you.” 

“Why me?” 

“You were familiar. You were in those dreams.” 

“Were we happy?” 

“No.” 

*

Kougami has always had dreams. He categorizes them. There are normal dreams and normal nightmares that, upon waking, can either be interpreted as nonsense or as things that have been bothering him during his waking hours that he hasn't yet taken the time to reflect on. 

And then there's the most vivid of his dreams. The ones that paint a picture of a whole world, in pieces. But these pieces make him feel things that his other dreams don't. He feels things for the people in these dreams even though he's never met them in real life. He doesn't remember most of them, but he knows that whoever these people are, they're important to him. He feels things about himself, and about his place in the world. Whenever he wakes up from one of these dreams, he finds himself shaken. Because he feels like he shouldn't have woken up from that experience at all. 

He doesn't really talk about these dreams. He tries not to think about them outside of when he wakes up from one. And for the most part, he's successful, because they have nothing to do with his every day life. 

Until one winter's day, while walking to the nearest cafe for lunch and half-reading an old novel (1984 by George Orwell, on his colleague's recommendation) he trips while crossing the street and falls face-first on the sidewalk. The book goes flying out of his hands, slapping against the rain-slicked pavement. 

He's so dazed that he forgets to pick himself up for a moment, and when he finally pushes himself to a kneeling position, he finds his view of the sidewalk blocked by his book, of all things. 

“You dropped this,” a voice says, and for some reason, Kougami feels his chest tighten. 

He takes the book, held in a slender hand, which then offers itself for Kougami to take. Kougami does take it, and finds that the hand belongs to a slender, tall man with black hair falling into his face and glasses perched precariously on his nose. He strikes Kougami so strongly as someone he's seen before that he can't talk for a moment. 

“It's rare to see a paper book these days,” the man continues. “You should be more careful with it.” 

And he misses that this man in his other hand grips an assortment of leashes attached to at least seven dogs of all sizes. Until one of those dogs nudges Kougami in the leg and he yelps. 

“Sorry,” the man says. “They like people.” 

“I like dogs,” Kougami blurts out. The man raises an eyebrow. “I mean, I just didn't notice them. Are they real?” Because robot dogs are a thing now. Easier to manage for most people. 

“Yes. And they're nothing if not noticeable,” the man says drily. Then his expression changes to concern. “Did you hit your head? Should I call for an ambulance?” 

“I'm fine,” Kougami insists. “I should've been looking where I was going instead of reading this book.” 

“You were reading a book while walking in the street?” Now the man gives Kougami a sharp, annoyed look. “That's idiotic.” 

“Hey,” Kougami says. For some reason he isn't angry at this. “You can't call someone you just met an idiot.” 

“If they do something idiotic, I can,” the man says. The dogs start to get restless. He glances down at them and sighs. “I have to go. Don't get killed.” 

He turns around, and Kougami feels something bubble up inside his chest. He cries out, “Wait!” 

The man turns back to him, annoyed. “What?” 

“What's your name?” Kougami asks. 

“Why?” Suspicion. 

Kougami decides that with this guy, honesty is probably best. “You seem familiar.” 

“I've never met you,” the man says. 

“Yeah but, it's,” he waves his hands in the air, but can't find the words. 

“Ginoza Nobuchika,” the man tells him, possibly to get the conversation to stop. 

“Oh.” Kougami grins. “Kougami Shinya.” 

One of the larger dogs barks and nearly yanks Ginoza to the floor. 

“Thanks for saving my book,” Kougami adds. 

Ginoza sighs before turning around and walking away. Kougami watches as he and his dogs disappear in the throngs of people on the street. 

*

A random man on the street who helped Kougami up when he tripped shouldn't be on Kougami's mind as much as it is, but when he gets home from work, he finds himself tempted to do a search on the internet for Ginoza's name. 

But he doesn't, because that would be weird. People don't stalk other people because they think they knew them in a dream. Or a few dreams. 

But he's the only one Kougami remembers from his dreams, and he doesn't know why. And the feeling that he gives Kougami is uncanny enough to make him question those dreams. 

He almost hopes that he'll have one when he goes to sleep that night, but he doesn't. Instead, his sleep is nothing. He wakes up and eight hours have gone and he has to go to work again. 

*

“Tomorrow you should go to the break room.” 

Kougami looks up from his cluttered desk to see his partner, Akane, leaning over his shoulder. Not actually looking at his computer screen, but instead looking at Kougami's face. 

“What?” 

“You seem distracted,” Akane says. “You're staring at the city's database of civilian information.” 

So he has been. He closes the window, ignoring how he'd stopped scrolling at last names beginning with 'G' and turns to Akane. “What did you say about the break room?” 

“Tomorrow,” Akane says, “Shion set up a therapy dog session.” 

“Therapy dog session,” Kougami repeats. 

“Shion thought we were getting a little stressed since we've been understaffed the past few months--” 

“A little!” 

“--and decided to bring in therapy dogs.” 

“What are therapy dogs?” Kougami asks. 

“They're real dogs who're trained to be around people in a friendly way,” Akane tells him. “Or at least, that's what Shion says. I don't know why we can't just have someone's pet dog come in.” 

“No one here has a pet dog,” Kougami points out. “So they're used to people and what? We're supposed to play with them?”

“Apparently animals lower stress levels,” Akane says. “Only if you like them, though. But most people like animals.” She frowns. “You like animals, right?”

“I like dogs,” Kougami says. “Don't you?” 

“Yeah.” Akane straightens up. “Anyway, you should go. I'll be there. I think it's important to do something fun for a change.” 

“Are you saying work isn't fun?” Kougami asks. Akane makes a face and heads back to her own desk. 

The rest of the day passes in a haze of boredom and cigarette smoke (the one bad habit Kougami allows himself), and he almost wishes for something drastic to happen. Slow days at work may be less stress-inducing, but they're also somehow harder to get through. 

*

Apparently, everyone in Kougami's division loves dogs, even if none of them have one. 

Akane practically drags Kougami from his desk while saying, “they're so cute. There's a tiny fluffy one that thinks it's a big dog and a large one that thinks it's tiny because it wants to sit in everyone's laps and they're all so friendly and I can't believe you were thinking of not going.” 

Kougami hadn't been thinking of not going. He'd just been waiting for the excitement to die down. 

They reach the break room and Kougami can see a few of his colleagues sitting on the floor with various types of dogs. Then Akane shoves him in and closes the door behind him. 

“Hey!” 

“Calm down,” Shion tells him, making her way over. “You need this. Now find yourself a dog and relax.” 

Kougami scans the room and sees a Siberian Husky curled up at someone's feet. His gaze moves from the dog to the person in the chair next to the dog scratching behind the dog's ears, and his jaw drops. 

Shion gives him a little push and he stumbles forward, and then his feet keep moving like they've forgotten that he has to control them, and he ends up standing in front of the dog and its owner. 

Ginoza looks up at him, surprised, and then says, “Shinya.” 

You remembered my name, Kougami thinks and then forces himself not to say that. Instead he says, “You don't work here.” 

“No,” Ginoza agrees. 

Something occurs to Kougami. “Are these your dogs?” 

“I'm their trainer,” Ginoza explains. “I train them to be able to interact in these sorts of situations with people and then take them out when they're needed.” 

“You work with all these dogs by yourself?” 

“It isn't only me,” Ginoza says, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. 

“What are the chances,” Kougami mutters, but he sinks to the floor next to the Siberian Husky and starts petting its back. It's extremely soft. “So none of these are yours?” 

“This one is mine,” Ginoza tells him, and when Kougami looks up at him, there's a small smile on his face. “Dime. Most of the people who work with me own one of the dogs.” 

Dime wags his tail as Kougami pets him, and Ginoza continues to scratch him behind the ears. 

“Is he as well-behaved at home as he is here?” Kougami asks. 

Ginoza laughs. “He likes to chase cars and steal my bed at night, but other than that, yes.” 

Kougami decides that he likes Ginoza better today. He's less annoyed and isn't judging Kougami for doing something stupid, and that's nice. 

For some time they sit in silence. It isn't awkward, just comfortable, and as Kougami continues to pet Dime he begins to feel sleepy, and seriously starts to consider using Dime as a large pillow. He's pretty sure that Ginoza would judge him for that. 

Then, Dime climbs to his feet and makes a small noise at Ginoza, jolting Kougami from his reverie. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

“No,” Ginoza sighs. He has a strange look on his face. “He just wants food. And then he'll want a walk.” Slowly, he stands up, brushes his hair back from his face, and says, “Dime, come.” Dime pads behind him to the other side of the room, where there are bowls and bags of dog food and water. 

Kougami realizes that Ginoza was reluctant to leave. 

He stands up, stretching, and checks his watch. To his shock, an hour has passed, and he darts out of the room because surely the office has gone to hell while he's been falling asleep petting a dog. 

It hasn't, and Shion walks up to him with a knowing smile on her face and says, “That's the first time I've ever seen anyone get the great Detective Kougami to relax.” 

“Isn't that their job?” Kougami grumbles. 

“I'm not talking about the dogs,” Shion says, and she slips a piece of paper into Kougami's hands and darts off. Presumably to ruin more peoples' work days by forcing cute dogs on them. 

Kougami opens the piece of paper. It's a number, written in Shion's neat handwriting. He puts it in his pocket, aware that his cheeks feel too hot. 

He is not going to call the dog man. He is not. 

*

He calls the dog man. 

To his credit, he doesn't call that night, or the day after, or even within the week. He calls after his division gets a case involving a computer hacker and his partner getting in trouble with a medium-sized business for trying to steal their assets. It isn't the crime itself that is harrowing, because no one was killed, but the business owners who'd been stolen from are hard to deal with. They want harsh punishment, immediately, and the justice system doesn't allow that. 

Also, the criminals in question are children. 

It's a bit of an unfair assessment, given that Akane is barely into adulthood, but the two criminals that they eventually managed to arrest after a two days long search turned out to be two nineteen year old boys. 

One of them nearly had a nervous breakdown upon seeing the police. The other looked positively excited, and half an hour later was trying to get a date with Akane. 

They determined that the criminals, called Hinakawa (the shy one) and Kagari (the obnoxiously excited one) hadn't meant any harm, but were hard on cash and had the intellect to hack into a lot of places. Even Shion the technology goddess (turned one-woman human resources department by necessity) was impressed by their skills, and she didn't impress easily. But getting those answers out of them, and getting them to show off the extent of their skills, was hard. 

Eventually, Akane suggested that they hire the two of them, since money was their problem and because they were actually qualified and the division had been short on employees for months. This caused an argument in which Kougami wasn't sure if they should hire people who could turn on them, Shion agreed with Akane, and the business owners who'd been stolen from were outraged at the idea of the police rewarding criminals. 

But hire them, the police did. And then it was up to Kougami to lie and say that Kagari and Hinakawa were on probation and doing hours and hours of community service to make up for it. The business owners weren't satisfied, but Kougami managed to get them off the department's back. 

And it was after all this that he decided that he needed a therapy dog. 

(And not the strange familiarity that he'd experienced from Ginoza before. Certainly not that. Just his dog.) 

He calls Ginoza, and Ginoza picks up on the second ring. 

“It's Kougami,” Kougami says. “The guy from the police department?” 

“I know who you are,” Ginoza says. “How did you get this number? Did you look it up? Did you use your police privileges to look me up?” He sounds flustered and Kougami laughs. 

“No, Shion gave it to me.” 

“Shion?” 

“Our HR person. The one who arranged the dog visit?” 

“Oh.” He almost sounds disappointed. “Why did she do that?” 

“Uh.” Kougami isn't sure how to answer that question, because Ginoza should know why she did it. Or maybe he wants to hear Kougami say it. In which case, Kougami won't give him the satisfaction that easily. “I don't know. Stress? Do you know?” He can't help grinning. 

“Why should I know?” 

“Anyway,” Kougami continues, holding back a laugh, “I was wondering if I could...uh...have a therapy dog visit?” 

There's a pause on the other line. Then Ginoza says, “Right now?” 

It's after nine. Kougami isn't used to normal business hours. “Well, I guess not. Sorry, forgot the time. Uh--” 

“What's your address?” 

Kougami stares at the phone. Then, he recites his address before adding, “How much do I owe you?” 

“Nothing,” Ginoza says. “Consider it a public service.” 

“What?” 

“You must be pretty stressed if you need a therapy dog at nine at night on a weekday,” Ginoza tells him. There's something like concern in those words. 

“It's not that bad,” Kougami insists, but Ginoza cuts across him. 

“I'll be there in fifteen minutes.” And then he hangs up. 

Kougami looks around his apartment. Then looks down at himself. He's still in his work clothes, a shabby suit and half-undone tie and his police jacket. He shucks the jacket off and decides to make tea, because he wants to have something to offer his guest when he arrives. After all, what will Ginoza do while Kougami is playing with the dog? 

Ginoza arrives fifteen minutes later, exactly. Kougami buzzes him in and a minute later there's a knock on the door. When Kougami opens it, Dime the dog barrels past his legs, tail wagging excitedly. 

Ginoza follows, a fond look on his face. “Dime was too energetic to sleep,” he explains. 

His presence in Kougami's apartment once again makes Kougami feel that overwhelming sense of familiarity. Comfort. And, to his surprise, a desire to make this person happy. 

“Tea?” he offers. Ginoza nods and Kougami heads into the kitchen, where he pours two mugs and returns to the living room. 

Ginoza takes the tea with a grateful smile and sinks onto the couch. Dime rests at his feet, and Kougami sits on the floor and starts petting him. Seeing the dog so happy makes Kougami's mood lift—at least he can make someone happy. 

“If you need to talk,” Ginoza says, “Dime is a good listener.” 

Kougami glances at Ginoza, cocks an eyebrow. “And you?” 

“I'm not the therapy dog,” Ginoza tells him. His face gives nothing away. “I just handle them.” 

“Well,” Kougami says, “Dime, do you want to hear a story?” 

Dime gives him a happy dog look that can only mean yes, on the condition that the petting continues. 

Kougami tells Dime about the two hackers and the angry business owners and how difficult it is to get people to do what you want. He talks about Akane's unconventional method of solving the issue, and about how now Kagari the sometimes hacker is a constant buzzing presence in the office, alternatively endearing and annoying, and about how Hinakawa is just plain endearing and actually probably needs a permanent therapy dog. 

Dime is a good listener. 

“I'm guessing he doesn't have any advice?” Kougami asks. 

“You aren't paying attention,” Ginoza says. He's finished his tea and his hands are clasped in his lap. “Relax and accept things as they are. That is Dime's advice for everything.” 

“I'd expect nothing less from a dog,” Kougami says. “And what about your advice?” 

“I'm not a therapist,” Ginoza reminds him. He glances around the apartment and says, “You should clean more.” 

“What?!” 

“This place is a mess,” Ginoza scoffs. “All of this disorganization can't be good for your mind.” 

“But that's how my mind works,” Kougami says. 

“Exactly. A disorderly house makes for disorderly thoughts.” 

“And clean glasses makes for a clear head?” Kougami isn't sure why he says that, but it sounds right. 

Apparently, it is right, because Ginoza looks surprised. Then he says, “How can a police officer be so disorganized?” 

“Detective,” Kougami corrects him, and Ginoza rolls his eyes. 

“Even worse.” 

Kougami glances at Dime, who looks minutes away from falling asleep, and then at Ginoza, who looks tired. And then he realizes that it's actually pretty late, so he stands up. 

“Thanks for this,” Kougami tells him, and Ginoza stands too. “I owe you.” 

“It's fine,” Ginoza mutters, bending over to fix a leash on Dime. 

“I'm serious,” Kougami says. “It's late and you didn't let me pay you.”

“Dime likes you,” Ginoza says, as if that's enough. 

“Yes, but you had to come here with him,” Kougami points out. 

Ginoza straightens up, leash in hand, and Dime stands. “Yes, well, Dime can't exactly find your apartment by himself,” he says, dry. 

“I want to see you again,” Kougami blurts out. 

Ginoza stares at him. 

Kougami stares back, challenging him to respond. 

Then Ginoza says, “You're a detective.” As if that explains everything. 

“What?” 

“It's late,” Ginoza mumbles, turning away. “I have to go. We have work tomorrow. I—goodnight.” And then he's out the door. 

Kougami sits on the couch and smokes at least three cigarettes in an attempt to stop replaying the last few minutes of Ginoza's visit in his head. 

*

That night, he has one of those dreams. 

Ginoza points a gun at him. It isn't a normal gun. It looks strange, the kind of weapon that resembles a gun but that Kougami has never seen in his life. But he knows that his dream-self has. And he knows that if the gun shoots him, he'll be dead. 

Ginoza's face is pale, his eyes wide behind his glasses. He doesn't want to shoot. 

Kougami's dream-self thinks, “This is what it comes to.” 

And then everything goes black. 

Kougami wakes up in a cold sweat. 

Ginoza didn't shoot him. 

*

“Ah! Kou-chan! Why the long face?” Kagari's face blocks his view of the computer. “Is it the dog man?” 

“What?” Kougami spins around in his chair so fast that Kagari has to leap out of the way to get hit. “How do you know that?” 

“Ah.” Kagari rubs the back of his head. “Shion might've said a thing about you being in love with a guy and his dog.” 

“I'm not,” Kougami snaps. “How many people did she tell?” 

“I don't know!” 

“Kagari...” 

“Okay, maybe a lot. But just our division. I think.” 

Kougami groans. 

“Is this worse than the time you two flirted for an hour straight before Shion rejected you by saying that she was dating Officer Kunizuka?” 

Kougami jumps to his feet. “How do you know that?” 

Kagari darts out of the office, laughing. 

*

Despite being annoying more often than not, Kougami feels, for the first time in months, that his team has really come together. Kagari and Hinakawa are good at what they do, and despite Kagari's tendency to bring out the worst in everyone, he's great at getting information. So is Hinakawa, and Hinakawa is sweet when he's not being quiet. They've both grown to see Akane as some sort of mentor, and Kougami is proud. He remembers when Akane was new and nervous, and now she's one of the most confident and skilled detectives in the city. 

But his outside life doesn't feel like home. He's missing something. People, probably. Kougami works so much that he isn't sure what normal people do when they're not working anymore. He considers calling Ginoza, but he sees their last interaction as having been a rejection. 

Shion tries to bring up the subject without outright asking, and Kougami ignores it. There's nothing to say, anyway. 

Even the dreams die down. 

And then, three weeks after the late night dog visit, Kougami gets a text from Ginoza's number, mysteriously saved as The Dog Man which Kougami definitely hadn't saved it as, reading, “I would like to get coffee with you this weekend.” 

Kougami is so shocked that he lets fifteen minutes go by without doing anything but looking between his phone and everyone else in the office to see if they've noticed that he can't stop looking at his phone. Then, he finally responds, “Sure, if work doesn't get in the way. Saturday lunch time?” 

Ginoza texts him back the name of a cafe and the time—12PM. 

*

The dreams come back. 

Kougami sees Ginoza's face, devastated. He's clearly been torn apart by some tragedy, and Kougami feels furious. Someone did this to him, and someone is going to pay. He can feel the metal of a gun in his hand, the weight of it heavy, and part of him wants to hold Ginoza if only to ease the pain that is so clear on his face. And part of him wants revenge. 

He opts for revenge. 

There's some guilt, but he pushes it ruthlessly aside. This is his choice. Justice has always been the most important thing to him. 

When he wakes up, he has the terrible feeling that his dream-self will never see Ginoza again. 

*

12:03PM and Kougami rushes into the cafe after having taken a too-slow walk to the subway and getting on a train that kept stopping between stations. He sits down, picks up a menu, and tries not to think about how Ginoza is watching him. 

“You're late,” Ginoza says. 

“By three minutes,” Kougami says. 

“Tsk.” Ginoza looks at his own menu and Kougami raises his eyes to study Ginoza's face. He wears a small frown, his eyes moving side-to-side as he reads, and Kougami wonders if it's weird that he knows what Ginoza's face looks like when he's emotionally ruined. This causes a pang in his chest—he never wants to see that in person—and glances at Ginoza's feet. 

There's nothing there. It's the first time he's seen Ginoza separate from a dog. 

Ginoza catches him looking and adjusts his glasses. “Dime is taking the day off.” 

“Right.” A waiter comes around and they order food and coffee, and then Kougami says, “I thought you weren't gonna call me back.” 

“I wasn't,” Ginoza tells him, which stings more than it should. “But I...” He pauses, glancing to the side. “You were very insistent.” 

“That's how I get stuff done,” Kougami says. “If you don't take action, nothing happens.” 

“It surprised me,” Ginoza admits, though Kougami isn't sure why it would. “I had to think about it.” 

Something occurs to Kougami. “It's okay if you're not into guys.” 

Ginoza looks up at him, startled, and then it occurs to Kougami that maybe Ginoza hadn't been thinking that way at all. Before he can say anything else, the waiter appears with their coffees, setting them down between the two of them. Ginoza shakily grabs a few packets of sugar and starts concentrating on pouring them into his drink. 

“Sorry,” Kougami says after a moment. 

“I thought,” Ginoza mumbles, “I didn't realize...” He takes a deep breath, then blurts out, “Is this a date?” His cheeks are red. 

Kougami almost laughs, because it's cute. But he checks himself. “It's anything you want it to be. I'm guessing you thought I wanted to be friends.” 

“Well, yes,” Ginoza says, like that's the only thing it ever could have been. Not in a hurtful way, Kougami realizes, but in an oblivious way. He gets the feeling Ginoza isn't good with people.

“I mean, I do, if that's what you want,” Kougami agrees. But in his dreams, there's an intensity between them. Truthfully, he doesn't know what they are to each other in these dreams. But he wants the same intensity between them here. 

“Do you want sex?” Ginoza blurts out. “Because I don't want sex. If that's a requirement.” 

Stunned, Kougami can only reply, “I don't mind, either way.” 

They settle into silence to mull this over. 

“Uh,” Ginoza says. He stirs his coffee more than necessary. 

“Hmm?” 

“I thought you wanted to befriend my dog.” 

Kougami does laugh this time, and Ginoza narrows his eyes at him. “Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all. “Just—why would you think that?” 

“I don't have friends,” Ginoza snaps, and immediately looks like he wants to take it back. “I mean, I do. Not many. People don't—I'm better with dogs.” 

“I figured,” Kougami says. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It's fine,” Kougami says, waving his hand dismissively. “I'm good with people, so we're even.” 

“If you find me so terrible--” 

“I wouldn't say terrible,” Kougami says. The phrase “charmless bastard” comes to mind, but he thinks it probably isn't a good idea to say that. They're not at that level of teasing. Yet. 

“--then why would you want to be my friend? Or whatever it is you want from me?” 

Because the way you smile sometimes when you look at Dime is what happiness is and I want you to smile that way at me, is not what he says. Because it seems like you genuinely care, is also not what he says.

He does say, “Because you're entertaining.” It's also true. 

Ginoza's mouth drops open. “What--” 

“Your food.” The waiter, again, and this time Kougami is thankful to have something else to do with his hands and mouth besides drinking coffee. 

“Is this how you charm people?” Ginoza asks. 

“I'm just being honest,” Kougami says. “You don't seem like the sort of person who enjoys being lied to.” 

“I don't,” Ginoza says. “Does anyone?” 

“Well.” Kougami shrugs. “One of my ex-girlfriends hated the truth.” 

“You like the truth,” Ginoza guesses. 

“Well, I am a detective.” 

Ginoza nods and looks down at his food. Kougami starts eating in earnest. 

“How often do you go in the field?” Ginoza asks after a moment. 

“All the time,” Kougami says between bites. “My partner and I, and usually a team of other officers, but sometimes just her and I if we want to be really discreet.” 

“Shouldn't your subordinates do that instead?” 

“Then what's the point of being a detective?” Kougami says. “We have to be out there to solve the crimes. You can't solve a crime from your desk. Besides, it's more exciting that way.” 

Ginoza puts down his coffee cup a little too hard. Kougami decides to ignore this, and for some time, they eat in silence. 

Or Kougami eats. He notices Ginoza pushes his food around his plate and only occasionally takes small bites. He seems lost in thought. 

“What made you decide to become a dog therapist?” Kougami asks. 

Ginoza blinks, then looks up at him. “I've always had dogs. People told me I was good with them.” 

“You could've just worked in an animal shelter.” 

“Then I'd have to deal with cats,” Ginoza mutters. 

“You don't like cats?” 

“One attacked me when I was nine,” Ginoza says. 

Kougami's eyebrows shoot up. “You're afraid of cats.” 

“No,” Ginoza snaps. “I just find them unpleasant.” 

Kougami laughs. “Does Dime like cats?” 

“Dime likes anything that moves as long as it's kind,” Ginoza says. 

“You mean he doesn't like me for who I am?” Kougami asks. 

Ginoza smiles, a little. “It's possible that Dime hasn't distinguished you from the hundreds of other people who give him attention.” 

“Damn.” Kougami finishes the last of his meal and leans back in his chair. 

“Have the computer hackers become any less annoying?” Ginoza asks. 

Kougami is surprised that Ginoza remembers his story from weeks ago, and they spend a bit of time talking about Kougami's colleagues and how Shion is still bugging him about the time he spent an hour in the break room with a dog, and it feels easy to do that. He notices, when the waiter brings the check and they agree to split it, that Ginoza hasn't finished his food, and that he hasn't talked about his coworkers. But he has the feeling that if he were to bring up either of these things, Ginoza would shut down. 

They walk outside into the cool afternoon of a winter fading into spring, and Kougami decides to just go with his desire to loop his arm around Ginoza's shoulder and pull him close. Ginoza yelps and almost trips, but manages to steady himself and doesn't pull away. 

He does ask, “What are you doing?” 

“Walking you home,” Kougami says. 

“I wasn't going home.” 

“Where were you going?” 

“The grocery store.” 

“Oh. Then I'll walk you there.” 

Ginoza frowns at him but doesn't say anything. After a few feet of walking, however, he shifts and ducks out from underneath Kougami's arm, an admirable feat considering how tall he is. This time it's Kougami who frowns at him. 

“We can hold hands,” Ginoza says. 

“So you're accepting the more than friends thing?” Kougami asks, holding out his hand. Ginoza takes it. 

“I'm considering it.” 

They reach the grocery store a few minutes later. Ginoza lets go and steps towards the doors, then hesitates. 

It's that awkward moment when a date ends and no one is sure whether to kiss the other person or hug or just awkwardly move away from each other. And it's in public. Which is, Kougami thinks, possibly what Ginoza wanted. 

“I'll see you around,” Ginoza says. 

“Yeah.” Kougami turns when he hears, “Wait.” 

“What?” 

“Why,” Ginoza asks, “would you want to date me? Don't you have someone be--” He closes his mouth, suddenly, and turns and disappears into the shop. 

Kougami stands there for a moment, wondering if he should go after him. 

Instead, he goes home, and wonders why Ginoza would be so surprised that anyone would want to spend time with him. 

*

On their second date, Kougami decides to come clean. 

It's as they're walking back to the subway station nearest the restaurant they went to for dinner. Ginoza has his hands stuffed in his pocket, and Kougami says, “I had a feeling about you when we first met, you know.” 

“A feeling,” Ginoza repeats, immediately suspicious. Kougami thinks of the way he fixates on certain details. He would have made a good detective. 

“There's a theory that there are infinite universes that exist,” Kougami explains, and Ginoza stares at him askance, but he continues, “and that we could exist many times over as variations of ourselves in variations of our worlds. This is important to understand.” 

By the time he's done explaining they're at Kougami's door, and Kougami has his hand on the handle and it's half open, and Ginoza looks down at the floor and then back up at Kougami's face. 

He asks, “Were we happy?” 

And Kougami doesn't want to answer that question because he knows Ginoza won't like it. He doesn't like it. His dreams don't have Ginoza in them anymore. The last he saw of Ginoza, there, was his devastation. 

“No,” he says. And because sometimes he can be a coward, he slips inside and shuts the door before he can see the look on Ginoza's face. 

*

A few hours later, Kougami's phone rings. Kougami has finished his pack of cigarettes and regrets it, because now he has nothing to do with his hands. 

“If we weren't happy,” Ginoza says on the other line, “why would you try so hard to spend time with me?” 

“Because I wanted to make you happy,” Kougami admits. 

He hears Ginoza exhale. Then he says, sounding shaky, “It's not real.” 

“Then how do you explain--” 

“It's not real,” Ginoza snaps. 

Kougami winces. “Okay,” is all he says, because he knows if he insists, there will be an argument. 

But Ginoza doesn't let it go. “You think it's real. You're convinced that we used to know each other somehow, somewhere else. That's why you kept talking to me. Because of some dream.” His voice gets higher and cracks at the end. 

Kougami realizes that something is wrong. He doesn't know what, but he wants to see Ginoza. “That isn't it.” 

“Isn't it?” 

“No. Because if we weren't happy, why would I keep coming back to you?” Kougami asks. “I like you here and now.” 

“It's not real,” Ginoza says. “It's just a dream.” 

“Why do some people feel more like home than others?” Kougami asks. “Have you ever thought about that? Why they just feel right, even if they're completely different? Have you ever had a dream that's like a memory? Or where you meet someone and they have such a strong effect on you that when you've woken up the emotion is still there and it lingers?” 

“But you never meet those people,” Ginoza says. 

“You know what I'm talking about,” Kougami says. He wants to say, I met you. He doesn't. It wouldn't help.

“Why weren't we happy?” Ginoza asks. 

Kougami draws up short. He grips the phone tight. “That doesn't matter, Gino.” The nickname slips out, something he's heard in the dream. 

Ginoza doesn't notice. “Why weren't we happy, Shinya?” 

You called me Kou, Kougami thinks. 

“Kougami,” Ginoza insists. 

“Because I left,” Kougami says. 

Ginoza hangs up. 

Kougami spends the night lying in bed, unable to sleep. He wishes he had a dog. No, he wishes he had Ginoza. 

But Ginoza is the problem. 

And he isn't sure what to do about it. 

Kougami is good at reading people. But having relationships with them—that is something he hasn't figured out. 

*

“Are you okay?” Akane asks him the next day at work.

He imagines he looks like a dog that's had its favorite toy stolen. “I'm fine,” he says. 

“Of course you are,” Akane says, and sits down on his desk. 

“How can I get you to go away?” Kougami asks. 

“By telling me what's wrong,” Akane says. “I can stay here for a very long time.” 

“I'm dating a guy,” Kougami starts, and Akane's face lights up, “but it's gone wrong.” And her face falls. 

“What did you do?” 

“Why do you think it was me?” Kougami asks, and Akane gives him a stern look. “I just said something I shouldn't have. Maybe I scared him. I don't know.” 

“On a date?” 

“On the phone.” 

Akane sighs. “You need to talk to him in person. I thought you only liked saying important things in person.” 

“It just happened,” Kougami says. “Look, I--” 

Several devices start beeping all at once. Akane looks at hers and frowns. “There's been an accident. We have to go.” 

Kougami stands up, grateful for the distraction. “Close by?” 

“Five minutes,” Akane says. “Near the park. They're requesting medical services but also, they want to interview the driver at fault.” 

“Car accident,” Kougami says, and Akane nods. He grabs his coat, pulls it on, and follows her out the door.

*

As he exits the police car, Kougami notices two things about the accident. One, is that there's a crowd of people watching. He hates it when that happens. The second is that he can hear a dog barking incessantly. 

He and Akane make their way towards the scene. There's a car stopped in the middle of the road, which has now been closed, and the driver is leaning against it, talking to one of the medical services personnel. Akane peels off towards them and tells Kougami to check on the victim. 

Kougami heads towards the front of the car. A few feet ahead, he can see a group of three paramedics huddled around someone he can't see. 

Then he hears someone shout, “Hey!” and something large barrels into his legs, nearly knocking him off his feet. 

He looks down and sees Dime barking at him. 

“Wha--” Before he can even finish the thought, his brain makes the connection. He looks, slowly, from Dime to the group of paramedics, and then his feet start moving towards them. 

One of them looks up as he approaches, expression strained. “Officer,” he says, “talking will have to wait--” 

Kougami ignores him and kneels down on the pavement. 

He takes in the sight of Ginoza, sprawled on the concrete, clothes soaked in blood. 

“Gino,” he breathes. 

Ginoza turns his head to look at him, and one of the paramedics says, “Please, don't move” but Ginoza has already moved, and his eyes are glazed over. His glasses are gone. 

“Shinya,” Ginoza mouths, but if the words come out, they're too quiet to hear. Blood runs past Ginoza's lips, and Kougami realizes that there's more blood coating his throat. 

He can't speak. 

Ginoza tries to. 

Kougami shushes him and manages to say, “This can't be how I lose you.” 

Ginoza's lips twitch. “Maybe I-I'll meet you somewhere else,” he rasps. “That would...I'd want that.” 

“Don't talk,” one of the paramedics says. There's more blood on Ginoza's lips. 

“That doesn't matter,” Kougami says. “I don't want to lose you here. I don't care about that.” 

Then one of the paramedics pushes him away, and the others are lifting Ginoza off the ground towards a stretcher. He feels a pair of hands grab him by the shoulders, and he staggers to his feet to find Akane looking at him. 

“It's him,” Kougami tells her. “It's--”

Akane looks down at the pavement, then at Kougami's legs. Kougami looks down as well. There's blood soaking into his pants. Blood on the pavement. 

“I'm sorry,” she says. 

The ambulance pulls away, lights flashing. 

He turns to see the other officers standing by the car, which he can now see has a dent in the front. He suddenly feels angry, his hands clench into fists, and he wants to demand to know why the driver hit Ginoza, what happened, why he wasn't paying attention. Kougami starts forward, but Akane grabs his arm. And then he hears a bark. 

He turns his head to see another officer standing off to the side with Dime, who won't sit still. 

“Dime,” Kougami murmurs, and he pulls away from Akane and heads towards the officer and the dog. 

He ends up taking Dime home, after the officers determine that Dime won't stay calm with anyone else. He fills in his reports with Dime whining at his feet in the office, and then heads home, changes his clothes, steps in the shower. When he finishes, he finds Dime in the living room, lying down on the floor near Kougami's discarded clothes. Kougami picks them up, grabs a trash bag, and stuffs them in. He takes them to the garbage disposal around the back of his building. 

When he returns, Dime is waiting by the door. Kougami walks over to the couch and sinks into the cushions. Dime jumps up with him and lies down, resting his head in Kougami's lap. Absently, Kougami pets Dime's head. 

It feels nice to have something to do with his hands. 

Dime is warm, and when he closes his eyes, Kougami doesn't feel alone. He falls asleep. 

*  
He dreams about desolate places and men in military uniforms. 

*

“He's had a head injury, some broken ribs, some internal bleeding, lacerations. But he should be fine.” 

Ginoza has a bandage wrapped around his neck. He is unconscious, too pale, and there's an IV stuck in his arm. 

He doesn't look fine. 

Kougami knows that medical technology has advanced hugely and that Ginoza, now that he's getting treatment, should be okay in a relatively short period of time. But seeing him there, very much not okay, and remembering him on the ground bleeding makes it hard to actually believe that. 

The doctor lets him stick around for a few hours. It's the day after the accident, and Kougami couldn't sleep the night before, and at work he was distracted enough that Akane said, “I'll take care of things for now” and let him leave early. 

He sits in an uncomfortable chair and tries to read the book he brought with him, but he can't concentrate. 

And then he hears, faintly, “Paper books...” 

He looks up and sees Ginoza watching him, and he puts the book down and rushes to his bedside. He doesn't know what to do with his hands. Ginoza takes a moment to track Kougami's movement. 

Then he says, “It's my fault.” 

“No it's not.” 

Kougami had read the interview from his home computer the previous night. The driver said that he'd almost hit a dog, only to hit the man rushing after the dog instead. 

“Dime...I lost my grip,” Ginoza rasps. “I was distracted. And he ran.” 

“You were just trying to save your dog,” Kougami says. 

Ginoza turns his head away. 

“It's fine,” Kougami tells him. “You're alive. You're fine. Is there...” He wants to ask if there's anything he can do, but he realizes that he can't, and he hates feeling helpless. But he's in a hospital and there's doctors and nurses and the only thing he can do is sit there and watch. “I can call someone, if you want.” 

“Call who?” 

“A doctor? Nurse? Family?” Ginoza looks confused. Kougami puts it down to his injury. “Or I can stay here?” 

“You have work,” Ginoza says. 

“Your accident is my work,” Kougami points out. 

“Huh?” Ginoza frowns. “Oh. Police.” 

“Gino--” 

“Why do you call me that?” 

“You don't like it?” 

Ginoza blinks. Then, suddenly, he gasps and tries to sit up, only to sink back down with a shout of pain. Kougami cries out as well, mostly in surprise, and then snaps, “Don't do that!” 

“Dime,” Ginoza rasps. “Dime was--” 

“He's staying with me,” Kougami says. 

“Dime is staying with you,” Ginoza repeats, slowly. 

“I'll take care of him,” Kougami says. 

Ginoza closes his eyes. He looks pained, but he nods, just a little. 

“Sleep?” Kougami suggests. 

“Not if you keep talking,” Ginoza mutters. 

“Right.” Kougami steps back, worry not completely gone, but at least partially alleviated. 

*

When Kougami leaves the hospital, he realizes that he has a lot of questions that he won't be getting answers to anytime soon. 

He doesn't know what kind of food Dime eats. He doesn't know how often Dime is fed per day, or at what times. He realizes that he left the dog in his apartment without walking it, so he'll probably have a mess to clean up. He wonders how often Dime needs to be walked, and if there's a way to tell when a dog wants to go out or wants to eat or is tired. 

Kougami is a people detective, not a dog detective. 

He hopes Ginoza isn't in the hospital for long, not only for Ginoza's own health, but because Kougami feels like Dime knows more about taking care of Kougami than Kougami knows about taking care of Dime. 

He does appreciate that Dime cuddles with him at night. That, he could do with for a few more days. 

*

A week later, Ginoza tells Kougami that he's being released from the hospital, but that he can only go if someone accompanies him. Kougami happens to be working the night shift, so he goes to pick up Ginoza at around lunch time. 

Ginoza sits on the bed in fresh clothes while a nurse stands in front of him scrolling through information on a tablet. Kougami steps into the room and clears his throat, and the nurse smiles at him. “You're here for the patient?” 

“Yes,” Kougami says. 

“And are you staying with him?” 

Kougami blinks. “No?” 

The nurse gives Ginoza a stern look, and Ginoza glares right back at her. Kougami notes that his face is pinched, possibly still from pain. 

“Do you have anyone who can look after you for the next few days?” she asks, sounding like this has been a sore point between them for more than one conversation. 

“No,” Ginoza says. 

“Well,” Kougami starts. Ginoza turns his sharp gaze on him. “I could.” 

“You can't,” Ginoza says. “You have a job. With irregular hours.” 

“I can,” Kougami insists. 

“Is my dog still alive?” 

“Yes,” Kougami says, now feeling a bit indignant. “Is that what you think? That I can't keep a dog alive? I'll have you know that Dime is the in the peak of his--” 

“Ahem,” the nurse interrupts. “Your doctor's biggest concern is the head injury and the difficulties that may still be present, as well as the re-introduction of--” 

“It's fine,” Ginoza cuts her off. 

“Head injury,” Kougami repeats. 

“I would hesitate to release someone who would be completely alone while--” 

“I can call him,” Ginoza says, not even looking at Kougami. 

“I would rather--” 

“I'll watch over him,” Kougami says. Ginoza tries to respond but Kougami continues, “whether he wants me to or not.” 

The nurse nods and hands the tablet to Ginoza, indicating him to sign something. Then she takes it back and says, “You've been discharged.” And she walks out of the room. 

Ginoza stands up and grabs a small bag from the bed—pain medications, Kougami assumes. Then gestures for Kougami to follow him out. 

As they walk, Kougami notices that Ginoza is trembling slightly, and that he holds himself stiffly. The bandage on his neck is gone, but there's a large, vertical scar running from below his ear to just above his collar bone.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Ginoza nods, a bit jerkily. “We'll go to my house first. For Dime.” Ginoza nods again, and they set off in the direction of Kougami's car. 

Technically, it's the police department's car, but Kougami had been given leave to use it for one day. Ginoza looks out the window for the whole ride, and Kougami doesn't say anything, not even when they pull up to the apartment and not even when they make their way upstairs. 

It's only when they've gone inside that Ginoza speaks, and only because Dime pads up to him and Ginoza throws his arms around the dog, buries his face in his fur, and murmurs, “Dime.” 

“You're welcome,” Kougami says, shutting the door behind him. 

“Has he been feeding you properly?” Ginoza asks Dime. “Have you been getting the proper amount of walks? Of attention? You must be ready to go back to work--” 

“Should I be insulted that you're talking to the dog more than you've talked to me in the past hour?” Kougami wonders. 

Ginoza straightens and offers Kougami a strained smile, not at all like the one he had for Dime a second ago. “Thank you. I should--” 

“You're not leaving alone,” Kougami tells him. “I'm coming with you. Until my shift starts. And then I'm checking on you again.” 

“What.” 

“You heard me.” 

They have a bit of a stare-off for a second. Ginoza is the first to turn away, his shoulders slumping. “Fine.” 

“Great. Let's go.” 

Kougami leads the way back to the car, trailed by Ginoza and Dime. Ginoza sleeps on the ride to his apartment, and Kougami has to shake him awake once they get there. 

There's a part of Kougami that's excited to see Ginoza's apartment. All he knows of Ginoza are the glimpses he's seen in his dreams, the interactions they've had with his dog, the two dates, and the hospital visit. Ginoza has been in Kougami's apartment more than once, and that feels a bit unfair. 

As it turns out, Ginoza's apartment is much cleaner than Kougami's, despite him owning a dog. There are no books, which makes Kougami a bit sad, but there is a tablet in addition to a laptop, which Kougami assumes is stocked with e-books. Dime's bowls and food are in the kitchen, neatly against one wall. Potted plants line the window sills, and there are very few decorations save for one intricate, older looking carpet that covers the living room floor. 

Ginoza heads for the kitchen and pours some food into a bowl for Dime. When he's done, he glances at Kougami and says, “Would you like--” 

“I'll make it,” Kougami interrupts. 

“I didn't say what I was offering you,” Ginoza says. 

“Tea? Coffee?” Kougami checks his watch. “Dinner? You should rest.” 

“I doubt I have anything edible after a week of being unexpectedly absent,” Ginoza points out. He leans against the counter. “I'm not hungry.” 

“After a week of crappy hospital food?” Kougami starts for the refrigerator. “You must be.” 

A lot of the cold food has expired, but Kougami finds noodles and sauces and starts to throw them together into something that is probably edible. Ginoza watches him and doesn't say anything. At some point he takes a seat at the counter. 

Kougami serves their dinner with a flourish, and even remembers to get them both water to drink with their meal. He feels pleased with himself, and watches as Ginoza takes a cautious first bite. 

He says, “This is not terrible.”

“Your welcome.” 

They eat in silence for a bit. Ginoza, despite what he said, seems disinterested in his food, stirring the noodles around more than bringing them to his mouth. His hands shake slightly, and finally he gives up eating altogether. 

“Is it that bad?” Kougami asks. He's finished his, and he doesn't think it tastes bad, but he's also used to crappy food from long work hours. 

“No,” Ginoza says. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine.” Ginoza stands up. “I have to make a call.” He darts out of the kitchen, and Kougami hears a door close. 

He sighs and turns to Dime, lying by his empty food bowl. “What are we going to do?” 

Dime smacks his tail against the floor, twice.

Kougami wraps up the leftovers and puts them away, puts the dishes in the dishwasher, and sits back at the counter. He has to leave for his shift soon, though he'd rather not. Ginoza comes back a few minutes later and sits down again. 

“Everything alright?” Kougami asks. 

“Thank you,” Ginoza says. “You don't have to look after me, since you looked after Dime for a week.” 

“I didn't kill him,” Kougami says, “so I won't kill you. Plus, you need someone.” 

“I have Dime,” Ginoza tells him. For some reason, that strikes Kougami as sad. Probably because Ginoza means it. 

“That isn't...I have to go to work soon,” Kougami starts, and Ginoza's expression closes off. “Is there someone I can call? You parents? Siblings?” 

“I'm an only child,” Ginoza says. His hands clench together. “My parents are dead.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” 

“I've been taking care of myself for a long time,” Ginoza says, looking Kougami in the eye. “I've done a good job. I'm still alive. And Dime is loyal. He runs off sometimes but he always comes back.” 

You risked your life for him, Kougami thinks, because you didn't want him to not come back. 

“I can't depend on other people,” Ginoza continues, “because if I come to depend on them, what will I do when they're gone? And they will go. Everyone goes.” 

“That's not true,” Kougami says. 

Ginoza rises from his seat so quickly that Dime, startled, barks. “Don't tell me that,” he snaps. “You of all people should know that. You're a detective. Your job is full of danger, and every day you have the chance of not coming back.” 

“Gino--” 

“Why would you take on such a dangerous job?” Ginoza continues, voice rising. “Why would you put the ones who care about you through that? It's selfish. If you're going to put your life on the line, leave everyone else out of it.” 

“Gino,” Kougami tries again, but Ginoza turns away from him, tense. 

“You have work,” he says. 

Kougami looks at the time. He'll be late if he doesn't leave now. He might already be late. “Ginoza,” he says, “please call someone. A co-worker. Anyone.” 

“Go,” is all Ginoza says. 

Part of Kougami is angry, and wants to shout at him. The other part is concerned, confused, unsure of whether he should or not. But he has his job. There are other people who need him, too. 

So he goes. 

And for the first time, even though it makes him feel a pang of guilt when he thinks about it, he understands the logic behind his dream-self leaving. 

*

“Maybe it's better if you give him space,” Akane says after she pries the situation out of him. 

To her credit, she doesn't blame Ginoza for sending him away, nor does she blame Kougami for leaving. When Kougami asks her why, she just says, “It sounds more complicated than that.” 

“Do you think make-up sex would work?” Kagari asks. 

“He doesn't want that sort of thing,” Kougami says. 

“What if you buy him another dog?” 

“Why do you always have terrible ideas?” 

“Hey! That's no fair, Kou-chan, I've been nothing but helpful.” 

“You're not helping,” Akane whispers. 

Kagari gives her a put-out look and nudges her chair with his foot. 

“I'll give him space,” Kougami agrees. 

“Why do you wanna go out with him so bad anyway?” Kagari asks. “Is it because of the dogs?” 

“It's not because of the dogs,” Kougami says. 

Kagari smirks at Akane. “It's totally because of the dogs.” 

*

A week goes by in which Kougami does not talk to Ginoza, and tries not to think about him. There are two murder cases, which he would really like to have a dog to cuddle after dealing with, but instead he just goes home and doesn't sleep for two nights. By the third night, he's tired enough to actually get some rest. 

One of the cases isn't solved. That should be a distraction big enough to consume him completely, as most cases do. But his mind drifts back to Ginoza, wondering if he's okay, thinking about what he said and why he said it, why he seemed so angry and hurt at the same time when Kougami's job had nothing to do with him. He seemed to take it so personally. 

By the weekend he can't just go on not knowing. Knowing is Kougami's greatest strength, so he grabs his phone and dials Ginoza's number, ready to demand to know what the next step in their relationship is and what happened that night and why Ginoza is so distant all the time. 

Dream Ginoza had been distant, too. But an angrier distant. But they were both surrounded by danger in those dreams all the time. This time, Ginoza has a peaceful life. He has a dog. 

Ginoza doesn't pick up. 

Kougami decides to do away with the concept of restraint and after his shift is over, he drives to Ginoza's apartment, manages to get inside the building by following a resident through the entrance, and ends up knocking on Ginoza's door with more force than is probably necessary. For a moment, nothing happens, and he wonders if Ginoza isn't home. Then he starts to think that maybe he scared Ginoza with his forceful knocking. 

Then the door swings open and Ginoza is standing there with his arms folded over his chest. “What?” When he sees who it is, his eyes widen slightly, but he stands his ground, glare and all. 

“What happened?” Kougami asks. He also thinks he should ask “Are you okay?” but he's pretty sure that would go down about as well as if he'd tried to murder Ginoza's dog. 

Because Ginoza doesn't look okay. He looks pale, somehow thinner, and very sleep deprived. As sleep deprived as Kougami, but Kougami is pretty sure Ginoza hasn't seen multiple murder cases in the past week, unless his job as a dog therapist is a lot more violent than it appeared to be. 

“Nothing happened,” Ginoza says. “You have your life. I have mine.” 

Kougami steps forward. 

“Don't do that,” Ginoza says.

“You're not okay,” Kougami says. “And I care about you. And you won't tell me anything. You keep trying to get me to leave and I don't know why. I don't know why you're angry at me for being a detective, if that's even what you're angry about, and if it is, it doesn't make sense.” 

“Of course it doesn't make sense,” Ginoza snaps. 

“What does that mean?” Kougami cries. “Gino, why won't you tell me anything?” 

“Because it doesn't make sense, Kougami.” 

“What doesn't make sense?” His voice is loud enough to echo in the hallway, which makes him realize that they shouldn't be having this conversation where they're having it. He steps inside and closes the door behind him. 

Ginoza turns and walks into the living room, and Kougami follows. “Don't ignore me.” 

“You wanted to know me because of a dream you had,” Ginoza says, and he whirls around to face Kougami, eyes burning into him. “But you said that we weren't happy, because you left. And I could believe that. Because you will leave.” 

“Give me more credit than that, Gino,” Kougami snaps. 

“It isn't up to you,” Ginoza says. His fingers are digging into his sleeves. “Your job--” He takes a deep breath. 

“A lot of people have my job,” Kougami says. “And they have families.” 

“Who worry--” 

“And they're fine, so I don't get why--” 

“My dad was a detective.” 

Kougami blinks. “What?” 

“And he died—shot in the arm. You can't tell me that the same won't happen to you.” Ginoza manages to hold his gaze for a whole five seconds before he knees give out, and he falls to the floor, hunched over, shaking. 

Kougami moves forward, kneels in front of him and tries to touch Ginoza's arm, but Ginoza pulls away. “This is my calling,” Kougami explains. “I can't give up because it's dangerous.” 

“I know,” Ginoza says, voice muffled by his hands. 

“There's also a large chance that I won't die,” Kougami says. “Plenty of officers and detectives retire and go on to lead long happy lives.” 

“I know.” Now he sounds frustrated. 

“So what--” 

“It doesn't make sense,” Ginoza says, “but I can't sleep because I keep thinking that if I got close enough to you, I'd lose you, and if I'm not paying attention, if I'm sleeping, something will happen to you because that's—bad things happen when you're not aware and I slept last night but it isn't fixed even though I thought—” 

“Gino--” 

“--and it's because of that stupid accident,” Ginoza is babbling now, “and you think I'm ridiculous, I'm not good enough, I have these thoughts and they don't make sense and--” 

“Ginoza.” 

Ginoza's words are cut off by a sob, and Kougami's chest feels impossibly tight, and he wraps his arms around Ginoza, allowing the other man to rest his head on his shoulder. 

“You shouldn't be alone,” Kougami tells him. 

“I have Dime,” Ginoza insists. 

“You need someone else,” Kougami says. “I'm here.” 

Ginoza pulls away, but not completely. Just enough so that he can see Kougami's face. “You're not lying,” he says. 

“I don't lie,” Kougami says, and he moves forward and kisses Ginoza. 

Ginoza returns the kiss, lightly, and takes a sharp breath in. Kougami pulls away and asks, “Is that okay?” 

Ginoza nods, and kisses him again, this time deeper. Almost desperately. Kougami sinks into the kiss as well, because it's been a long time since he's had this level of intimacy with someone, and for the first time, with Ginoza, things feel right. As they should be. A longing fulfilled. 

When they pull apart, Kougami has made up his mind. 

“It's late,” Ginoza says. 

“You should sleep,” Kougami agrees. He helps Ginoza up and guides him towards his bedroom. 

At the door, Ginoza turns around and says, “You can stay, if you want.” 

“I'll take the couch.” 

Ginoza, too, seems to have made a decision. “You don't have to.” 

Kougami follows him into the bedroom. Ginoza walks over to his bedside table, grabs a bottle of pills, and says, “I don't mean...” 

“I know,” Kougami says. 

Ginoza uncaps the bottle and fishes out a pill, swallows it, then heads into the bathroom. He comes out a few minutes later in a baggy t-shirt and pajama pants, by which time Kougami has taken off most of his clothes. 

After a slight hesitation, Ginoza gets into bed, and Kougami climbs in next to him. He notes the pill bottle and asks, “Still on the pain meds?” 

“No,” Ginoza says. “Anxiety medication. I have a therapist. That's why I'm not one.” He sighs. “It works, but I lost of week of it in the hospital, and had to work up to my former dosage again when I got out. It's been...difficult.” 

Kougami wraps his arms around Ginoza, who tenses for a moment before relaxing into the embrace. 

Kougami has made a decision. He rests his chin on Ginoza's shoulder and murmurs, “We'll make this work.” 

“What about your dream, where you leave?” Ginoza asks. 

“This won't end like that,” Kougami promises. “I won't let it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just need to mention that the first scene where Kougami meets Ginoza on the street after he trips is inspired by this one time I was walking to work in NYC and saw a guy walking at least six dogs. It was so cute! I got a picture! Hit up my tumblr if you want to see this picture of this dog-loving human in the city. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed story!


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